Depression is not a choice. When people ask what it feels like, I don’t even have to think.

It’s like you’re underwater drowning. You forget how to swim. You used to know how, but not anymore. You’re incapable of swimming, so you sink to the bottom of the pool.

Nobody knows you’re drowning. They just think you’re underwater. Casually swimming and you try to call for help, but nobody can hear you. Even if they could, you’ll be shamed.

Your voice is gone. Your mind is all dark. No more everyday happy thoughts and people should not just say, “I’m depressed.” when they’re feeling down because depression is feeling down everyday for months and years.

You’re in this sad box that is locked. You can’t escape. It’s become a part of you…you’re friend, that you don’t want. They will yell at you, scream at the top of their lungs. And you can try to get them to leave you alone, but they’re not going anywhere.

People will say it’s a phase and you wish it was, but it isn’t. You can’t just snap your fingers and be depression free. It takes a long time to recover.

Depression is not cute. It is not something you want. It is not a trend. It is an illness and a bad one too. Having depression is not a sad thought every once in a while, it is not cutting yourself and showing everybody.

Really, it’s about not being able to get out of bed to shower, eat, start your day. It’s staying up until two in the morning thinking about things because you believe you’re a failure and that’s what it will get you to think.

You will begin to know to yourself that you’re useless, and that nobody will want you.

Sad, huh? It’s in your head. Depression is a bad illness and when people compare people who have depression, that’s even worse. Like you can’t become depressed because your parents got a divorce, because somebody else’s parents were killed.

You can’t put a price on sadness and you’ll think, “Oh, God, please someone save me, anyone”, but the only person who could save you is yourself.

It will take a while too.

Do something you love, people will say. They clearly don’t understand that anything you do will not make you happy. You are sick…It isn’t a two-day thing, but I will not be shamed for my depression.

I will always have it in the back of my head, and even though it may make me want to give up, I will not. I will not give up when I have made it this far.

Don’t blame people who are trying hard to make it through their day. So in the end, you have to remember: Depression is not a choice.

Abigail could not remember a time when she had felt more alone. She tried not to think about it, the betrayal, but it was a reality and it was happening to her. Her life had been perfect. She wondered how her husband was doing?

A single tear slowly slide down her flushed cheek. She hadn’t been feeling well lately, but this was expected. Her face felt flushed as she slowly brushed a strand of her hair from across her face.

The footsteps startled her from her gentle thoughts of a better time. She tried not to remember where she was, but it was hard as she heard the keys rattle in the lock. Quietly, she said a prayer as she felt the stirring inside of her belly.

It was late. The sun had disappeared hours ago, casting a light glow from the moonlight, across the alley.

She wasn’t scared, but she was feeling the first signs of doubting herself. She knew better than being out in the night late and alone. Her mother had taught her the dangers of the city over and over again…so why was she not listening, especially now.

Because she had a gentle soul… a caring soul… she trusted people. She hated when her mother looked down on people, always judging them. Why was she always judging? After all, people were good… weren’t they?

Perhaps this was true or maybe it’s just from the mind of a thirteen year old girl.

Lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t hear the footsteps sneaking up behind her. Seconds before, she had decided to turn around and go home… consumed with her mother’s voice in her head.

“Hello.”

But it was too late. He stood there, in front of her, staring down at her, as if she were his prey.

All the blood drained from her face, as her breath caught in her throat.

Quickly, she turned on her heels, grabbing her purse, while proceeding to slam the door harshly behind her on her way out and down the stairs. Large crocodile tears spilled down her checks as she ran through the apartment complex, desperately searching for her car.

She needed to get away, as for away as she could. She knew he could find her if he wanted to and this she did not want.

He had crushed her heart beyond repair now. Not only had he turned his back on her, but he had also turned his back on his own flesh and blood.

She loved this baby growing inside of her, but she knew she couldn’t raise it on her own. She knew what she had to do, it wasn’t going to be easy, but she no longer had a choice of what she wanted anymore.

She had tried, fighting for her baby with all her might, but she had lost the battle.

January knew he only lied when he was using. She had lived with the cycle for long enough to see the subtle changes in his behavior. She used to laugh about it, saying he was two-faced, but in reality it wasn’t funny.

She had been living with this man’s ups and downs for nearly twenty-seven years.

“I’m not lying, baby.”

“I know you didn’t go to work today, Jack, your boss called.”

“What a prick. He has had it out for me since the first day I started.”

Jack always knew what to say. Nothing was ever his fault, it was always the other guy.

January had come to a point when she no longer fought, it was easier to just accept it. Her best friend had told her once, you made your bed, now lie in it. She guessed she had.

“Jack, what are we going to do. We need money for our mortgage.”

“Don’t worry baby, I will get you the money.”

“How? You just lost your job.” January cried.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, I will take care of it and have your mortgage money to you by Friday.”

It was always Friday, but he could no longer keep his promises. His lies were starting to catch up with him, they were drowning him and her and their family. Poor Bella, she didn’t deserve any of this.

“Jack, I can’t take this anymore. You always get fired after two weeks, why is that?”

“I told you baby, he was a prick. I will find another job, didn’t I tell you not to worry?”

“Hi, Daddy, are we going to have to move again?” Bella had just walked into our conversation, holding her ice cream in her hand, as it melted, dripping down her arm.

It was always the same story, but nothing was getting better. She knew why he lost his job after two weeks, it wasn’t because of any other reason, but he was using again.

He had just gotten paid two days before and now he had changed, January saw it, his boss saw it, and now Bella saw it.

January set the pregnancy stick down on the white Formica counter-top. Tapping her finger, as she bit down on the tip of her it, she was lost in thought. Did she want the test to come out positive or would it be safer to have a negative result…

She knew she loved Jack with all her heart, but was he marriage material…

Unexpectedly she jumped, hearing the creak of the front door.

“Honey, are you home…”

Damn, it was Jack. Closing her eyes and reluctantly opening them again, she peeked down at the pink stick. Her heart dropped.